


Poison and Wine

by MagicAndSparklez



Category: The Bridge Kingdom Series - Danielle L. Jensen
Genre: Alternate take, Battle Scene, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicAndSparklez/pseuds/MagicAndSparklez
Summary: An alternate take on Aren's rescue from the palace. This was written before The Traitor Queen came out, so I had no idea what was going on, so forgive my complete AU vibe of this. I'm so bad at writing summaries.
Relationships: Aren / Lara, Aren Kertell / Lara Veliant, Lara / Aren, Lara Veliant / Aren Kertell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Extremely lightly inspired by the song 'Poison and Wine' by The Civil Wars. The last chapter will make more sense as to why.

Lara burst into the room, sword drawn, knife at the ready. She would break Aren out of here one way or another. She spotted her husband tied at the waist and manacled to a chair in the back of the cell.

Her heart sunk. The man she loved and lied to, the man she loved and betrayed, the man she loved and loved—at mercy to the gods. “Aren,” she whispered, hoping he would hear her.

Her battalion was too busy fighting off the rest of the palace guards. She had broken off before Ahnna could notice her absence. She had to do this alone, she needed to. She ran over to him swiftly dodging the pools of blood and sweat on the floor of the cell. As she got closer, she could see he was asleep—or, unconscious at least—in the seat. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, she felt so helpless. This was her fault.

“Aren,” she said a little louder, reaching out an arm to shake him awake.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, hardly stirring.

Kneeling down beside him, she began working at the locks chaining him down. She released him from his manacles first, moving on to work on the chain belting him to the chair.

He hardly regained consciousness but when his hands were released, he seemed to become aware of what was happening. “Lara?” his voice was raw and hesitant, “no, no it’s not, it’s another one of his games,” he said to himself, the words ripping into Lara.

“Aren,” she repeated, “it’s me.” She grabbed his chin, guiding him to face her. “I’m here, Aren.”

His eyes shot open, his pupils dilated and his eyes bloodshot. He had a gash running from above his brow to his cheek along the side of his face. Now up close, she could truly see the damage to his face. He had a blackeye, a cut and swollen lip and a broken nose. Oh, Aren, she thought, pain finding itself at home in her gut.

“Get away from me!” he exclaimed, taking his free hands, and shoving her away. “Whatever sick game this is, I’m tired of playing it.” Aren threw the manacles at Lara, gritting his teeth together. He looked closer at her, biting his bottom lip before letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re the most convincing one yet,” he remarked, shaking his head.

“Aren, it’s me” Lara pleaded, coming back closer to him. “Please believe me.” She felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Oh, tears,” he scoffed, “you know, she wouldn’t cry for me. I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about Eranahl yet.” He spat on the ground beside her. “Where is Silas anyway? Or Serin? Why send you alone to get information out of me? What’s your plan?”

“My plan is to get you out of here before my father or Serin notice you’re gone. So, cooperate or be stuck here for however long you want to be,” Lara ground out. She was frustrated, angry, upset, and—at this point—annoyed.

Aren’s eyebrows came together, confusion lacing its way to his face. “You’re serious?” Aren sounded incredulous. “Lara?” his voice broke, “Lara, Lara, you’re real, you’re here, you’re—I don’t understand.”

“We don’t have time to understand. Let me unlock you, we need to move and fast,” she ordered, clambering back over to him to finish unlocking him.

“You’re here to kill me,” he stated, shaking his head as though there was no other explanation. “You finally came back to your father, you’re here to kill me.” Without a response from Lara, he kept going. “You’re here because you finally came to your senses, betraying me was the best thing you’ve done, you’re here to betray me one last time, you’re here beca—"

“I’m here because I love you!” Lara yelled through tears, cutting off Aren. She had never been one to be emotional when under pressure, but the events of the last few months had finally caught up to her—the fear, the stress, the anxiety, the loneliness… it was all too much.

Aren had been too stunned to speak. Instead, he remained silent, allowing Lara to continue picking at the lock. His world felt like it had been turned upside-down. She had only said those word a few times, but this time—this time he knew she meant them.

Lara had grown tired by his antics. She didn’t know what he had been subject to here, but from what she could tell, they hadn’t been gentle with him. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks, felt herself growing weaker and more fragile as she worked at the lock, hands shaking.

As though he could sense her delicateness, Aren’s hands found hers and he helped her pick open the lock. His hands shaky as were hers, but together they picked the lock open, an audible click as the last pin found its home.

Once free from his shackles, Aren drew Lara into his chest, inhaling deeply her scent and her essence. He felt as though he were at home once again, but he was still wary. “Why?” he asked, trying but failing to make eye contact.

“Why what?” she asked back, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Why are you here?” he asked, feeling a numbness creeping over him as he pulled back from her.

“Aren, I said it already, I’m here to get you out of here.”

“Why did you come back for me if not to kill me?” he asked, completely at a loss.

“Aren, I—” she couldn’t finish the words. There were footsteps coming their way, there would be no time for more proclamations of love. “We need to move.”

Aren simply nodded, knowing what had to happen. He followed Lara to the cell doors, the both of them holding back just out of view of whoever was coming. The couple readied themselves, Lara standing in front of Aren, her blades ready as the source of the footsteps made their way closer and closer…


	2. 2

Ahnna burst into the cell, sword drawn and at the ready. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, glaring pointedly at Lara.

She sighed, partly out of relief that Ahnna was the footsteps, partly out of annoyance, “I knew you wouldn’t let me go off alone,” she said plainly, “but I had to do this, I had to prove it to you that I wasn’t here for myself.”

“Well it sure as hell seems like you were, considering you bailed when things got bad.” Ahnna shook her hear, her gaze switching to her brother, “you look like shit,” she remarked.

“Good to see you too,” he let slip a small smile.

“We still need to get out of here,” Lara added, breaking up the family reunion.

The twins nodded, Ahnna seeming to let go the conflict, Aren eager to finally get out of his cell.

As a trio, they moved out. Ahnna explaining on the way where everyone else had gone, splitting off to find Aren, some back fighting the onslaught of guards that seemed to never stop coming, but most of them had remained at the fight.

When they got back to where Ahnna and the battalion had made it in, it was eerily silent. This was where they had been at the height of the battle and suddenly, there was nobody to be seen.

“Where is everyone?” Aren asked, looking to Lara and Ahnna. “Something’s wrong here,” he continued, walking through the room, observing the fallen, both Maridrinian and Ithicanian.

“Right you are, boy.” It was Silas, his voice booming through the room as he stepped out from behind a pillar. “Hello, daughter,” he addressed Lara, vitriol in his eyes. “Glad to see you back.”

“Father,” Lara returned, venom in her voice. “We will be on our way soon, now if you will just let us go—”

“Let you go? With my prized prisoner? I don’t think that will be happening, Lara.” Silas began to move towards them, slow enough to build tension but quick enough that they wouldn’t have time to react as he drew his blade.

“What do you want?” Lara demanded, moving to stand in front of Aren, knife at the ready.

Silas’s eyes met her, their matching eyes burning like fire. “I want you dead.”

Ahnna moved to stand beside Lara, the women shielding an unarmed Aren. “How convenient,” Ahnna started, “we happen to want the same for you.”

With a snap of his finger, dozens of guards pooled into the room, blocking any and all ways out. The guards raised their swords and readied their weapons, circling around the trio.

It wouldn’t be hard to fight out of this if they were all armed but having to protect Aren in his weakened state on top of fighting their way out of this would be a challenge.

Lara was the first to strike, throwing herself at the guard nearest to Aren. She moved swiftly, swinging the sword over head, setting the blade into the shoulder of a guard, knocking him down. She plunged the blade into his chest, yanking it out with ease and speed as she turned to another guard, already hot on her.

Ahnna had joined into the fray, Aren doing his best with hand combat as he was still unarmed. Ahnna swung her blade with vicious accuracy, cutting down two men in one fell swoop, disarming another with her hilt to their wrist. She was a wild fighter, brutal to the core.

In the middle of the fray was Aren, twisting arms and throwing punches where he could. He bent down for a sword dropped by one of the royal guards, finally armed and finally lethal. Though it wasn’t his weapon of choice, he knew his way around the blade. Aren swung once, cutting down an attacker, his patterns wild and unpredictable. This came with his lack of sword experience, but he knew how to use this to an advantage. Aren speared his blade through another guard, swiftly removing the bloodstained metal before swinging around to knock down another attacker.

Lara was cutting down two men at a time, her bladework like a well-practiced dance. She knew how to handle a sword or a knife, no matter the size. She was expert in throwing knives, but no less experienced with a longer blade. Lara made her way towards her father, cutting down anyone in her way with ease and grace. Lara cut her way closer to her father, more guards falling on her as she did.

Reducing the distance between her and her father, Lara felt the heat of battle beginning to get to her, exhaustion causing her muscles to scream as she put her whole body into her fighting. But she wouldn’t stop—not until she saw her father’s head cut from his shoulders.

“Lara!” Aren warned, coming up behind her out of nowhere to cut down a guard who had been at her back.

She silently thanked Aren with a nod, the pair now standing back-to-back, swords at the ready as they moved as a unit toward Silas, parrying and dodging blows, cutting down the guards in their path. Ahnna had appeared on the outside of the circle of guards surrounding them, slicing into and through guards as she went.

The trio had easily cut down half the guards, but it felt never-ending. Aren and Lara swiped and sliced down men ad Ahnna harried them from the outside of the battle. She heard on onfall of footsteps, swearing, she swung back, trying to lure a guard out of the circle, hoping the oncoming footfall wasn’t more guards. Before she could shout a warning to Lara and Aren, she realised the incoming company was the battalion, Jor spearheading the group.

They joined the melee, easily reducing the guards to nothing.

Silas was still standing, sword at the ready, as Lara slowly made her way over to him.

“Lara, Lara, Lara,” he berated, “you truly think this is a fitting end? A hoard of you and one of me? Where is your honour?”

“Seeing as you sent your guards on us when we were just three, I see no honour in you either, Father,” she spat, venom in her voice. She advanced on him, Aren and the others forming an unbroken line behind her, slowly encircling The King of Maridrina, turning the tides.

Silas knew there was nowhere to run, knew that backup was nowhere to be seen nor would they hear him should he call to summon them. This was it. This was the end of his reign of terror on his country, this was it for Silas Veliant.

Raising her blade, Lara fixed her gaze on her father’s eyes. “Last words?” she drawled.

“Rot in Hell.” Silas ground out, eyes not breaking contact as Lara drew down her blade.


End file.
